


If You’re Going to Sing, Sing Loud

by thewightknight



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Disney Songs, Fluff, Holidays, M/M, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-24 17:00:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21621376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewightknight/pseuds/thewightknight
Summary: Cullen hadn't meant to start humming Disney songs on the bus but he'd hadthatsong stuck in his head for days and it just happened. Now if only he'd gotten the phone number of the handsome gentleman who started humming along with him.
Relationships: Dorian Pavus/Cullen Rutherford
Comments: 6
Kudos: 70





	If You’re Going to Sing, Sing Loud

**Author's Note:**

> Another meet-cute prompt from [this list](https://50-item-writing-prompts.tumblr.com/post/181844119575/50-meet-cutes):
> 
> _Humming a song and having them begin to hum with you without thinking._

It was all Mia’s fault that Cullen had been singing _that_ song for three days now. True, it had been his idea to get them all out of the house so their parents could have a little time to themselves, but it had been Mia who’d suggested that particular sequel. And when they got home, Rosalie demanded that they watch the first one. And now here he was.

It was a good song, he'd have admitted at any other time. The sentiment was one he could agree with. Everyone could do with a little letting go every now and then. But three days. _Three days!_ He’d have to come up with some way to get revenge. Maybe he’d swipe the memory stick she kept in her car and replace all the songs with _It’s a Small World_ and _Never Gonna Give You Up._

Cullen didn’t realize he was humming the song until he heard the man sitting behind him start to hum it too. Embarrassed, he stopped, but the man behind him didn’t. He had a pleasant voice –a bass, deep and rich, with bright, cheerful notes. From the way he sounded, Cullen was sure the man was smiling.

He didn’t turn around and look at the man. That would be too be obvious. So he waited until the bus entered the tunnel and shifted slightly to his right, hoping to catch a reflection. The glass didn’t show him much. All he could make out was dark hair and a mustache and a flash of white teeth.

 _Smile confirmed,_ he thought.

The humming didn’t stop, and Cullen couldn’t help himself – he joined in again. There was a brief chuckle when he did, flowing seamlessly with the tune, and then, when they got to the chorus, he almost jumped in surprise when the humming became singing.

_Let it go, let it go  
Can't hold it back anymore!_

What the hell, Cullen decided. It’s a bus full of strangers. Why not? He joined in on the next line.

_Let it go, let it go  
Turn away and slam the door_

And now he did turn around and he nearly missed a note when he saw his partner in this impromptu Disney sing-along. The man was gorgeous. Humor twinkled in dark eyes that crinkled at the edges, and his smile? Cullen’s heart skipped a beat. He managed to keep singing and they brought the chorus to a close and there was an instant of silence while Cullen lost himself in those eyes, and then someone started to clap. Someone else followed suit, and then the whole bus was clapping and cheering and stomping their feet.

The stranger stood and made a sweeping bow, then turned to Cullen and bent at the waist, hand extended. Cullen took it, hesitant, and found himself pulled to his feet, clasped hands raised over their heads.

He wanted to ask the stranger’s name (and possibly get his phone number), but the bus pulled into the next stop and his singing partner let go.

“This is my stop,” he said, in a speaking voice as rich as his singing. “Lovely singing with you. Merry Christmas!”

And then he was gone. It wasn’t until after the bus pulled away that Cullen realized he could have gotten off the bus with him. He took the next stop and practically ran the five blocks back to the last one, scanning the streets as he went, but there was no sign of the man.

“Dammit,” Cullen swore to himself, and sat to wait for the next bus.

The argument over how they had run out of butter without anyone noticing they were low was probably still going on even while Cullen stood in line at the checkout. Grocery shopping on the afternoon of Christmas Eve was a nightmare. The lines stretched into the aisles and there’d already been one near fight when someone tried to cut in from the side. Cullen nursed the peppermint hot chocolate he’d gotten from the Starbucks stand in the store while he waited, wishing it was schnapps and not sugar water adding the flavor.

He made it out with life and sanity intact, but barely.

“Where’s my hero’s welcome?” he asked as he walked through the door. No one answered. He could hear laughter from the dining room and followed the sound of it, to find the entire family crowded behind Branson where he sat at the end of the dining room table.

He stopped dead in his tracks when he heard a familiar voice emanating from Branson’s phone.

_Let it go, let it go  
Turn away and slam the door_

“Oh, no,” he said.

“Oh, yes!” Rosalie replied. “Cul, you’re viral! Come here!”

She rushed forward and grabbed Cullen’s hand.

“No, Rosie, I need to put the butter away!” he tried to protest.

“You’re not getting off that easy, brother,” Mia said.

Cullen gave in to the inevitable.

The video was titled _A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Mall_. The description read _I was trying to catch the birds flying at sunset when this happened._ The video did start with a flock of birds wheeling in the sky, but over the rumble of the bus you could hear when Cullen started humming. The camera panned down when the second voice joined in.

Embarrassment warred with fascination as Cullen watched the other half of his impromptu duet. Little details that had escaped him about his singing partner leapt out at him now—the glossy hair, slightly ruffled from an impeccable style, the smartly fitted jacket, the full lips under that mustache. The person who’d filmed them had been sitting across the aisle, a few seats forward, so he got a prime view of his own sad face after they’d finished and the other man had disembarked.

When the video ended, Mia smacked the back of his head. “Why didn’t you get his number, bonehead?” she asked.

“Because I’m a bonehead,” he said, and she couldn’t get the fight she was spoiling for going after he’d agreed so readily.

Now that he’d returned with the butter, the potatoes could be mashed and dinner could commence. Cullen knew it would happen, but he still groaned and put his hands over his ears when Rosalie started singing _that_ song.

He got through dinner and dishes and then they all bundled up and piled into the minivan to head out to the traditional Rutherford Christmas Eve activity—the big performance of Handel’s Messiah downtown. It was open to everyone and while technically you were supposed to have your own copy of the score there were usually extra copies floating around, as well as people willing to share.

Parking was almost as much of a nightmare as the grocery had been, but they managed to snag one of the last spots in a parking garage only a few blocks away. There was a crowd already gathered around the square. Section leaders held up signs for the voice ranges and they all split off. Their mother, Rosalie and Branson headed off towards the sopranos.

 _It’ll probably be Branson’s last year with them,_ Cullen thought as he and his father parted ways with Mia, them to the tenors and her to the altos. His little brother was showing the first signs of adolescence and his voice would probably change before next Christmas.

It was a good crowd this year, although as always there were more sopranos and tenors, as always. There was a bit of shuffling as some people switched groups, willing to risk a bit of vocal strain to fill out the other sections, and then it began.

_Hallelujah!_

The start was always a bit rocky but by the time they finished the first chorus of hallelujahs the magic had begun. Their voices reverberated off the skyscrapers that encircled the square and Cullen lost himself to the singing. When they reached the second round goosebumps broke out on Cullen’s arms under his heavy wool coat.

_And he shall reign for ever and ever._

As they neared the end Cullen could feel tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, as always. When the final note fell, his father handed over a handkerchief and he wiped them away.

“Gets me every time too, son.”

The two of them headed over to the big Christmas tree at the end of the square, their usual rendezvous point with the rest of the family. As they neared it, Cullen saw had heard Mia call out his name.

“Cullen! You won’t believe who I found!”

When he turned to look, he shook his head, and then looked again, because he couldn’t believe the sight before him. Mia was charging across the square, dragging a familiar man with her by the hand.

“Isn’t that the guy in the video with you?” his father asked as they approached.

Cullen was too busy staring to answer.

“Here he is!” Mia’s cheeks were rosy with either the cold or excitement. Cullen would have placed bets on the latter. “Cullen, this is Dorian Pavus. He helped out with the altos. Can you believe it? He’s recently moved here from Tevinter and since he doesn’t have any family here, I’ve invited him to join us for pie this evening.”

“I wouldn’t want to intrude,” Dorian tried to protest but Cullen could have told him to save his breath—the breath that puffed out from those sinfully attractive lips that had formed an enchanting smile that Cullen could stare at for the rest of the evening, given a chance.

His reverie was interrupted when someone tugged on his coat sleeve. “Excuse me?” A young girl stared up at him from under a fringe of brown hair. “You’re the guys from that video, aren’t you?”

“Bethany!” A woman rushed up to them, and the family resemblance was unmistakable. “You can’t run off like that. Mother will have kittens. Sorry about that,” she said.

“But Marian, it’s them!” the young girl protested. “I want a picture with them.” She turned a pair of potent blue eyes on them all. “Please?” she asked.

“Do you mind?” her sister asked, and that’s how Cullen ended up with Dorian’s arm around his waist as they posed with the young girl, each with a hand on her shoulder and her with crossed arms pointing at the both of them and, when Marian showed them the picture, a grin on her face that threatened to split it in two.

After her sister had snapped several photos, ‘just in case,’ Bethany thanked them and ran off.

“Thanks again,” Marian said. And then, “You should do some more videos together. Like, for real—not impromptu.” And then she was off too, joining up with Bethany and a young boy that looked like her twin and an older couple. Bethany turned and waved at them again before they disappeared into the crowd.

“Did you drive here?” Cullen asked. If Dorian had, then he’d have an out to escape Cullen’s mad family. He’d never be able to find them and then follow them home in this madness.

“No, I rely on the bus, I’m afraid.”

That led to an offer of a ride home after pie, and when they walked past the bus stop and saw the crowds waiting, Dorian accepted.

The family minivan accommodated seven easily. Cullen and Dorian got the center seat, with Mia sitting between Branson and Rosalie in the rear. They had barely buckled in when Rosalie started singing.

_Be our guest, be our guest…._

Dorian laughed and joined in, so of course the rest of the family did too. The entire ride home turned into a Disney medley. After _Be Our Guest,_ they sang _Hakuna Matata,_ and then _Under the Sea._ They’d just started on _I’ll Make a Man Out of You_ when they pulled up to the driveway and Cullen made a break for the door. When she started the song, Mia had shot him a look that he’d caught in the rearview mirror, and he needed the excuse of the chilly temperatures for the red he knew had begun to stain his cheeks.

He said a silent prayer as they filed through the door that they didn’t have any mistletoe scattered around the house.

It was Branson, of course, who suggested that the two of them do another video, there in front of the Christmas tree. Cullen vetoed _As Long as There’s Christmas,_ claiming he didn’t know all the words. That the family taking turns shouting at them, until Dorian threw up his hands, laughing, and begged for mercy.

“How about a classic?” he suggested.

Several days later, Cullen got a text.

_We just broke a million views!_

After taking the video of the two of them singing _I’ll Be Home for Christmas,_ Branson had posted the link in response to the original post on Twitter. _Look! They did another one!_ That was all it had taken.

Cullen was still texting a response when his phone rang.

“I was just replying,” he said by way of greeting.

“So, I was thinking,” Dorian said. “We should start our own YouTube channel. Care to meet me to talk about it, over coffee perhaps?”

“Coffee sounds nice,” Cullen said. They agreed on a time and a place, and Cullen knew he was grinning on a fool when they hung up. Tucking his phone in his pocket, he turned up the fur collar of his coat against the wind. As he continued walking down the street, he started to hum.

_I can show you the world…._

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you want to say hi, [check out my profile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewightknight/profile) for where I’m currently hanging out on this here internet thing. If you liked this, please share! Kudos are love and comments are always appreciated.


End file.
